Shall We Dance
by PJ Zatken
Summary: How far will a man go to keep the woman he loves? Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle hit a very sour note after Bruce fails to balance important matters in his life - crime fighting, Selina, and his family. Two "Cupids" see the ballroom as the bridge for love and reconciliation. Will the two very strong-willed lovers sway to the beat of their hearts, or send their relationship packing?
1. Shall We Dance

**BATMAN**

**SHALL WE DANCE?**

* * *

**_Synopsis_**

_At what lengths will Bruce Wayne go to make amends? _

**_Note_**

_This first chapter was written as a one-shot for The Bludhaven Yahoo Group's Summer Tournament, Round 1 a handful of years ago. Additions and modifications to Chapter One and subsequent chapters will be first posted here in _

**_Disclaimer_**

_I do not own Batman or any other characters involving the Bat Family. This fic, however, is mine. Enjoy!_

* * *

"This is stupid - OWWWW!"

Alfred straightened himself after slapping Bruce across the back of the head. "_That's_ for stepping on my foot!"

"I only stepped on you once, and it was an accident! And what's with hitting me?"

"You've been stepping on me for the past hour and counting. That _second_ one's for uttering the word _stupid_, Master Bruce. That along with your behavior has pushed me to the wall. Now focus!" said a stiff-lipped Alfred after he deliberately stomped on Bruce's right foot to get the latter's attention and cooperation. He drew Bruce into a closed embrace, their chests touching.

Bruce threw a death glare.

Alfred, in customary nonchalance, ignored Bruce's piercing glare and added, "There's more where that came from. Care for more...?"

Dick, who had been walking around and examining Bruce's movements on all angles, interchanged his desire to cringe while letting out a sigh. His lips pursed a bit. After shaking his head, he said, "We told you to stiffen up for a perfect frame. From here, it looks like Alfred threw you in along with your shirts for a good starching. You're as stiff as a board. Not graceful at all. "

"I know how to dance, remember?" retorted Bruce, this time bequeathing his death glare to an unaffected and very-much-amused Dick Grayson. "You talk as if you know how to do every ballroom dance style."

"I do, and so does Selina," said Dick with a quiet yet confident smile. "And I'm not the student – you are. You may be great at the waltz, but the Tango is a whole different ball of wax."

"Yes, you waltz. You haven't done the Tango, and definitely not the Argentine Tango. I know because you wouldn't be so scattered if you have done it before," quipped Alfred, his hand once again correcting Bruce's frame from behind. "Frankly, Master Bruce, you need to be more graceful...gentlemanly..."

Bruce's glare became sharper still. "I am being gentlemanly."

"You move and behave like an oaf, young man!" Alfred once again straightened Bruce's frame, this time doing it much more forcefully. "And focus!"

"It's hard to focus! I'm counting my steps while you're talking to me, pushing my back, and slapping my head!" Bruce said through gritted teeth, toning down his irritation as he saw Alfred meet his glare with equal defiance.

"Since when did the great multi-tasker get so easily distracted?" asked Dick, trying to hide his disbelief and amusement. "Alfie's right. This dance requires the man to ooze gentlemanly grace as he leads the woman through the dance."

Bruce felt as if his head had swollen three times its size. He knew that Alfred was upset with him these past few weeks due to Selina. He did not like the fact that he was the "woman" in these dance instruction sessions until he learned the rudiments. He could not see Dick's point on why this endeavor would be worthwhile. He was uncomfortable knowing that the figures represented in the Argentine Tango were criminals, namely the pimp and the prostitute. He was kicking himself for volunteering into something that turned out much harder than he thought it would be. He had this innate urge to pummel the figurative pimp in the Argentine Tango.

Whatever it was, the anger festered within him...and so Bruce raised his eyebrow and deadpanned, "What's so gentlemanly and graceful about a pimp roughing up a prostitute for all to see? Why would this be the perfect dance?"

Dick, unable to hold back his chuckle, said a few seconds later to a now extremely frustrated Bruce, "Because the 'prostitute' in the dance isn't a pushover. She has an equal amount of aggression to let out, much as the pimp does... The exchange between the two as they dance...well, it's..."

"And you think _that's_ romantic?" Bruce quipped, his tone teeming with sarcasm.

"Romantic, if done right by any couple. You and Selina? Steamy and romantic, to say the least... You do a good waltz, but only a few could do an excellent Argentine Tango with their partners…and Selina's a good dancer." Dick let out a sigh, recalling his telephone conversation with a very irritated Selina. "If you don't get this dance right, you'll see yourself being replaced by a true oaf."

"Harvey Bullock, for example…or other charmers who've been following Miss Kyle with their eyes," Alfred interjected.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, his eyes widening. He stopped dancing for a couple of seconds, glancing at Dick. He then reeled his feelings back in, resuming the dance while quipping, "She won't. She's not stupid, and she has taste."

"Care to gamble on that, partner?" asked Dick, his eyes focused on Bruce. "She can, and she will if you don't do something about it. Guess what? She's feeling _absolutely _stupid right now for putting up with you. And you're not a charmer dancing if you have two left feet. Do you have a mental block when it comes to the Tango, let alone the _Argentine_ Tango?"

"She _wouldn't _dare."

"You stood her up three times. Three times…" countered Dick. "I'm not innocent, either. I stood up on my share of dates, but at least I showed remorse. You, on the other hand? Not even a little bit, especially these last three consecutive times."

"And why is she complaining to you about it? Why _doesn't_ she call me and settle it between us?" growled Bruce.

Dick shook his head, amazed and wondering on the lengths and height that Bruce's stubbornness could soar. "She might be used to your warm, fuzzy personality and all...but that was cold, even coming from you. Being stood up three times, not getting any apology for all three times each time that it happened, and then being blown up on after pointing out that the last-minute cancellations were far too often and becoming hurtful? She's not a saint, you know."

"And you're saying?"

"She just had it. Period."

"_Had it?_" Bruce asked with an eyebrow raised, while Alfred led him to a dip. "What do you mean by '_had_ _it?_'"

"She's fed up, Bruce. How many ways do you want me to spell it out to you?"

Dick let out a disappointed sigh after a long pause, his mind's eye seeing the bevy of women that have come and gone in Bruce's life since he was a child. "You really need to work on your interpersonal skills. Just because Selina knows who you are, with or without your respective cowls, that doesn't give you the excuse to take her feelings for granted. As tough as nails as she is, she's still a woman and a human being with feelings. Last time I checked, you're a man and human too…so I think you still have feelings in there, too."

"Who are you, her lawyer?" spat Bruce, voice raised as his temper flared up even worse than it did before. "And of course, I understand that she has feelings! You two make me sound as if I'm such an insensitive prick!"

"You're lucky that at least Selina's talking to one of us in the family," quipped Dick as his own temper rose, his eyes narrowing and not backing down whatsoever from Bruce's intimidation. "And speaking of 'she,' you're being a fucking jerk and an insensitive prick. My words, not hers. Maybe Alfie's, but he's too much of a proper gentleman to say those words."

Dick tried his best to reel his temper in, and when he felt that he calmed down a bit, he continued with a much gentler tone, "Bruce… For the past hour-and-a-half and counting since this dance lesson started… Hell, since you two have argued days ago, you have never mentioned Selina's name – not even once. You kept using the word her and she. Why? Will it kill you to do that? Will it be an admission of fault if you mention her by name?"

Bruce lost his focus and stepped on Alfred's toe once more. He thought that he was ready to defend himself and so he blocked Alfred's first effort to slap him across the head, only to fail in avoiding the second one.

"I bet that if you calm down and screw your head straight, you'll nail this," said Dick after letting out another sigh. "Would it hurt your ego too much to admit that you need help in certain areas? Hell, even I have to remind you to at least take a shower and a shave before you go on a date with Selina. Sure she knows you just came from patrol, but that's no excuse to not be your best for her."

"You laugh about Harvey Bullock? An oaf is a much better alternative than a dashing gentleman, especially if the oaf gives her the time, respect, and affection that she deserves. I thought that I raised you better than how you're behaving." Alfred, now visibly angry, spat as he straightened Bruce's frame once again. "Focus, or I'll follow Miss Kyle's stead. I'll walk out on this instruction, and she'll walk out of your life."

The dance stopped, with Bruce staring at Alfred. Once reality had set in his bones, he glanced at Dick and then focused on Alfred. In a near whisper, he said, "I'm _trying_. I _really_ am..."

Alfred calmed down considerably, the commanding tone that he had taken earlier now softening to a fatherly one. "I need more effort from you, Master Bruce. You must, if you don't want Miss Kyle to slip through your fingers."

After the silence, Bruce said, "May we stop for now... I need a break..."

"And after that...?" quipped a nearly-resigned and very-much frustrated Alfred, his eyebrow raised while asking the question.

Bruce looked at Alfred, his rich tone calm and conciliatory. "I still want to learn... Short break...15 minutes...then resume rehearsal... All right with you two?"

Alfred and Dick exchanged glances, then respectively gave Bruce a nod.

**End of Chapter One**


	2. Bruce's Eight

**BATMAN**

**SHALL WE DANCE?**

**Chapter Two: Bruce's Eight**

* * *

_**To the Reader**_

_General timeline for this multi-chapter fic is __after__ the events depicted in the Batman and Nightwing series and __before__ the DC 52 Reboot (except for Batgirl 2011—Volumes 1 to 3). Specific timeline for this fic is immediately after the events of Batgirl 2011, Volume 3. This fic also takes the position that events in Batgirl 1 to 3 and the entire "Mirror Arc" happen before the events of Nightwing 2011 #1._

_This fic is also set BEFORE the events chronicled in the Grayson comic series..._

_This fic takes the position that everything that happened thus far in the DC universe will remain as true and that the reboot series (if applicable) are the characters' continuing adventures._

* * *

_**Disclaimer**_

_Bruce Wayne / Batman, Dick Grayson / Nightwing, Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle / Catwoman, and other DC characters appearing in this fic… I do not own these lovable DC / Vertigo characters._

_Havana by Chris Heyman is owned by those who hold the copyright to the song._

_However, I do own this fic, Have fun reading!_

_Best regards,_

_**PJ Zatken**_

* * *

After making a few business calls, the 15-minute break was over and Bruce returned to the huge hall where he was practicing with Alfred while Dick watched. He saw the two chatting.

Alfred and Dick stopped and got themselves ready once Bruce reached the middle of the hall.

Dick gazed at Bruce, shifting a bit seeing that the three of them were about to start working again. "Alfie and I have been talking, and one of the problems that I can point out is your body."

Bruce quipped, "People only get one body. You're making it sound that I need a new one."

Bruce quieted down once he saw Alfred throw him a death glare that he remembered oh, so well when he was a child. Lately, since he had been learning how to do Latin ballroom dances particularly the Argentine tango, he became far more reacquainted with the uncomfortable feelings associated with that glare. He reduced his desire to react or quip through his customary scowl.

"No, Mister Wise-Ass. At this rate, you need a major overhaul." Dick then let out a long, frustrated sigh. To relieve the tension and ongoing stress that his body and mind were undergoing, he absentmindedly raked his fingers through his hair and then explained to Bruce, "Latin dance is different from Standard ballroom dance style. The fluid movements in Latin dances such as the rumba, cha-cha, salsa, paso doble, the tango, and other Latin-based dances are expressed differently. Movement is more pronounced in the Argentine tango. For now, let's start with teaching you fluid movements through the rumba which is slow and easy. Once you get the hang of it, we'll apply that to the Argentine tango."

Bruce looked not just stewing angry, but clueless…making Dick and Alfred exchange glances.

Dick mulled over his thoughts, trying to find the right words to convey to Bruce what he was doing his best to say. "In those dances, the man must be able to express this haughty, pseudo-narcissistic, oozing sensuality from head to toe. Confident, romantic, sexual… It's like through that dance, you're enticing and promising your partner a night to remember. As to what it means, leave your partner guessing as to what that _'night to remember' _would entail by using your body to communicate that. And what I'm saying goes way beyond that billionaire playboy persona you've been playing up all these years."

Alfred nodded his head with a smile akin to what a proud father would give to a son who accomplished a job well done. He loved Dick's descriptions, especially since he could see what the latter was describing vividly. "I couldn't have said it better myself, Master Richard."

Bruce had a grumble laced in his tone as he said, "The waltz is romantic. Why can't I stick with that?"

This time, it was Dick's turn to raise an eyebrow from Bruce's comment. "Would you just quit it with the waltz, already? I love the waltz in sweeping someone off her feet, but there are more ballroom dance styles other than the waltz. It's time for you to grow up in the ballroom arena and stop moving on the dance floor like a constipated Bugsy Malone. You dance as if you're about to mangle someone."

Alfred smirked, took in a deep breath, and pursed his lips…his efforts in holding back his laughter.

"You two are having so much fun at my expense, aren't you?"

With a smug smile, Dick responded to Bruce, "Well, consider this payback from all the moments you've beaten the crap out of all of us Robins during training. So what is more important – your pride, or Selina?"

Bruce quieted down with a death glare of his own, although he knew that it was not fazing either Alfred or Dick.

Dick gazed at Bruce, letting out a quiet sigh and allowing his sympathy towards Bruce and the situation to seep out…and so he said in a kind tone to make Bruce understand, "Look… In dance, the waltz is like a romantic courtship. The gentleman woos the woman sweetly, every movement done as if it's a request from the gentleman to the woman…the woman treated like the princess that she is. Emphasis on the word _gentleman_…"

Beginning to relent, Bruce asked, "And Latin dances?"

Dick fell quiet for a moment, and then tried reminisced the feelings that courses through him whenever he danced for as long as he could remember. He recalled the joy and the exhilaration filling him, and so he allowed those thoughts to spill out from him as he explained, "In Latin dances, there's more sensuality because the man and the woman are lovers on the dance floor. There's intimate teasing hinted in the movements. Sensuality, flirtation, and romance… If waltz is courtship, the Latin dance is the bold, in-your-face yet sensual invitation to foreplay and the bedroom…and you leave no room for your partner to say no. It's supposed to be an erotic and possessive expression of love between a man and a woman…like a _slow burn_ leading to the bedroom and all night long…"

Bruce grumbled and shook his head. "Fine… So how am I supposed to train my body for this movement?"

"Well, first of all you do the count in your head. When you do the count, _don't_ use English…use Spanish… Otherwise, the rhythm will be completely off and it's awkward for the body to adapt to the fluid movements. Once that happens, your timing, movements, and steps will be off. And since you're the man and the lead, your partner will be dancing off-rhythm, too."

Alfred turned on the music. _Havana by Chris Heyman_ played and echoed throughout the hall, with Alfred setting it to perpetual loop for now until Dick instructed otherwise.

Dick began swaying his body to the rumba music, explaining to his student, "From head to toe, use your body to communicate that oozing sensuality without being overt. You make eye contact. Your eyes communicate all that needs to be said to your partner. You_ never_ remove your gaze from your partner from start to finish. You move your arms fluidly. You move your torso. You sway your hips. Just like your eyes, your body _always_ has that connection with your partner. You dance to the rhythm and let the music carry you away. It's full expression of emotions on the dance floor. You do that in standard forms to begin with. In Latin dances, full expression is the spice and the lifeblood of the dance coming to life. It's like you're being one with your partner that way. In the Argentine tango, there's this push-and-pull relationship between the two. So you add sexual tension to the mix."

Bruce and Alfred observed Dick, who closed his eyes for a second as he let the music dictate his movements and dancing with such grace and ease. Bruce began to slowly but surely see the differences that Dick was referring to, the two walking here and there to watch Dick…with each part of his body moving so fluidly.

Once the song was done, Bruce and Alfred applauded Dick…with Dick taking a graceful bow and smiling warmly.

Bruce then inquired in passing, "Alfred, did you send anyone to dancing school? How come I missed out on all of this?"

"Yes, Master Bruce. But Master Richard learned beyond what was taught to him all the years that he had a dance tutor. All the boys went through a dance tutor, but they were for the standard forms of ballroom dancing."

Bruce then turned to Dick, wondering out loud, "Why are you such an avid advocate of Latin dances? Who taught you?"

With a small smile escaping from his lips, Dick replied, "I picked it up over the years. My parents danced a lot when I was little, and so did I. Then there were women that I've dated. Then there's the undercover work we do. I mean there's every given opportunity. If I'm going to do it, I'll do my best not to look like a wooden idiot."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, holding back a growl. "Are you trying to insult me?"

"Hey, don't look at me. You're reading too much between the lines. Focus on your learning. If there's anyone's who's insulting you, that's you. " Dick then stood up and walked towards the middle of the wide space. "So stand facing me, and make space between us. Alfie, you're our spotter. Bruce needs to learn how to move like I do."

"All right..." said Alfred, straightening up and preparing for his task

Dick then stood in a straight posture and demonstrated to Bruce what he was instructing the latter to do. "So, feet a bit apart… Your spine is supposed to be straight at all times, yet every part of your body particularly the arms, torso, and most especially the hips are moving. The movement is called an _eight-roll_."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, unable to picture himself doing the fluid, graceful, and sensual movements that Dick just made. He never felt that way when he watched other people do these movements. In fact, he had seen it numerous times. However, seeing it so close to home by having his eldest son demonstrate it so that he could do it himself…it was just too much for him to take…

While giving Bruce a look chastising for open-mindedness, Dick continued explaining as he pointed at parts of his body to coincide with his explanation, "Picture making a figure-eight or an infinity sign on every movement while your spine remains straight while following the rhythmic count. Let's start with the torso and the hips first. Once you get that, we'll add the arms."

Dick gracefully moved, and Bruce not so gracefully.

And it was so painful for Alfred to watch Bruce, with each minute becoming more unbearable.

Having seen enough, Dick yelled, "Stop!"

Bruce stopped.

It was Dick's turn to scowl along with Alfred, with Dick asking, "What was _that?_"

"What was _what?_"

"What were you _just_ doing?"

Holding back on his annoyance, Bruce said through nearly-gritted teeth, "I was dancing. What else did you think I was doing?"

"You call what you just did dancing? Are you serious?" Dick sighed, and approached Bruce. "First of all, your movements are hesitant. Second, you're still too wooden."

Trying to think of the best way to teach Bruce and letting out a sigh to ease the tension, Dick then got an idea. "Don't move. So focus on what I'm going to say. I'm going to touch you so that you can get this through your head. Twist my arm, and we'll have a problem."

Bruce nodded as he pushed down his irritation. He watched Dick as the latter lifted a pointed right index finger.

Dick then said as he had his index finger draw an imaginary vertical line in the middle – from Bruce's throat down to the belly button. "That's your center and your spine if we're pointing at the back."

The second thing that Dick did was to draw another imaginary diagonal line over Bruce's upper chest. "This s the first and second quadrant…."

The third thing that Dick proceeded to do was to use his pointed index finger to draw another imaginary diagonal line a few inches above the belly button… He then pointed to parts of Bruce's abs and said, "This is the third and fourth quadrant…"

The fourth thing that Dick do was to draw one more imaginary line, doing the same motions as earlier and saying as he pointed to the lower part of Bruce's abs, "This is the fifth and sixth quadrant...the area that lies in-between the last two lines I drew. Now below that line and your belly button…your left and right hip…is where the seventh and eighth quadrant lie…" You need to be able to move each of those eight quadrants with fluid and flair while keeping your core…your spine…poised and straight. Picture having lines drawn from your shoulder to your wrist, both left and right side. Picture figure eights from each part, which means that each part where a figure eight rests is an area for the body to have fluid movement… If you can master that, your waltz would even be better because you'd be able to learn how to express yourself better through the dance."

Then another thought came in Dick's head, and Alfred could tell as to how the Wayne eldest son lit up for a moment…hearing Dick say, "Oh, and one more thing, Bruce…."

Bruce exclaimed with irritation, "There's more?"

Dick said in a light-hearted manner while having that boyish, carefree smile that he was so well-known for, "Latin dances are easier to learn and do when you're letting go and having fun. Let it fill your entire being. So first of all, smile…"

Bruce smiled…

"_Geez..._ You just look like you're about to pummel and then drag me to Arkham. I told you to smile – not scare people into making them think you're insane," murmured Dick as he shook his head, his mind recalling how Selina ranted to him nearly all night long about Bruce's antics. He remembered how much he defended Bruce while doing his best to appease her good graces so that the two could reconcile. But then again, seeing that scowl-warped smile of Bruce's just now made him shake his head.

"That _was_ my smile… I _was_ smiling."

Dick shook his head more pronouncedly, unable to wrap his head over how difficult it could be to teach a well-bred, cultured gentleman how to dance or even be pleasantly human. "Sorry, that was dumb of me to ask you to smile. I forgot I'm dealing with here…. I'm seconding Alfie here – you are an oaf, and an arrogant one, too! You're _not_ smiling for those shallow, backstabbing socialites. You're _not_ smiling to be the scourge of the underworld on a good night. You're smiling _for_ Selina!"

Dick and Alfred respectively shudder while Bruce scowled, with the two teachers thinking their own versions of, _"We still have a long way to go…and I mean __very__ long…"_

**End of Chapter Two**


	3. The Pimp and the Prostitute

**BATMAN**

**SHALL WE DANCE?**

**Chapter Three: The Pimp and the Prostitute**

* * *

_**To the Reader**_

_General timeline for this multi-chapter fic is __after__ the events depicted in the Batman and Nightwing series and __before__ the DC 52 Reboot (except for Batgirl 2011—Volumes 1 to 3). Specific timeline for this fic is immediately after the events of Batgirl 2011, Volume 3. This fic also takes the position that events in Batgirl 1 to 3 and the entire "Mirror Arc" happen before the events of Nightwing 2011 #1._

_This fic is also set BEFORE the events chronicled in the Grayson comic series..._

_This fic takes the position that everything that happened thus far in the DC universe will remain as true and that the reboot series (if applicable) are the characters' continuing adventures._

* * *

_**Disclaimer**_

_Bruce Wayne / Batman, Dick Grayson / Nightwing, Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle / Catwoman, and other DC characters appearing in this fic… I do not own these lovable DC / Vertigo characters._

_Havana by Chris Heyman is owned by those who hold the copyright to the song._

_However, I do own this fic, Have fun reading!_

_Best regards,_

_**PJ Zatken**_

* * *

After three straight days of arduously learning the eight-roll to rumba, samba, and salsa music, Dick and Alfred deemed that Bruce was minimally ready for the next step of his training.

As always since dance training began, no matter what the upper attire was worn that day, the rule that Dick and Alfred insisted was for both Dick and Bruce to wear dress shoes specifically for ballroom dancing. Alfred had no problem adhering to the rule since he normally wore leather dress shoes everyday as Bruce's butler.

For the past three days, Dick and Alfred made arrangements to have mirrors surround most of the hall so that all angles could be seen while dance training commenced…this set-up making Bruce feel extremely awkward especially from the beginning days of instruction.

Alfred quietly rolled his eyes when he heard Bruce ask for the umpteenth time for the past three days, "Are you teaching the tango today?"

Dick, who had an eyebrow up, let out a resigned sigh and looked towards Alfred. "Alfie, what do you think? Are we giving our student a pass to the next lesson?"

"Barely passable… I say yes, as long as Master Bruce practices what he has learned thus far everyday."

"Well, Bruce… Your tango lessons start today. Now I'll take the lead, and you'll follow."

Bruce scowled. "Well, it's about time!"

Dick threw a glare towards Bruce, and a frown creases his forehead. He placed his left hand over his hip while his right hand touched his forehead as if his headache had already set in for today. "If there's a rating scale of how well you're doing the eight-roll, with tomato being the low part of the scale and a dollar bill as you've mastered it, I'd say that Wayne Manor will be enjoying many varieties of tomato-based recipes until Damian turns 18. So quit complaining because you're still far from your goal."

"Very funny…" Bruce quips, taking his position at the center of the large empty hall, "I'm not applying for Chippendales or going for The Full Monty. So enough of the eight-roll and on to the tango…"

"Your movements are still wooden. With how you are right now, if you don't learn properly then you'll send your poor partner at the hospital from injuries…unless she dies from laughing at you first, or unless you fracture your shins because of how hard and how frequent she'll kick you for messing up."

"You make it sound as if the woman's vicious."

"Those are your words, Master Bruce," murmured Alfred, shuddering from Bruce's lack of tact. "Very oaf-like behavior will never win a lady's heart."

Dick quietly laughed and shook his head over Bruce's words. "You're talking about Selina Kyle. If there's anyone who has the perfect moves to be led for the tango, that'll be her. And she will put you in your place. You'll end up getting whipped…figuratively and literally…"

"As if I'll let that happen…"

"You're stepping on extremely thin ice, Partner," said Dick with a lopsided smile. "This is no time for you to be overconfident. You're in hot water with her, and your dancing sucks. _ My_ words – not Alfie's, not Selina's…."

This time, it was Bruce's turn to frown, intrigued by what Dick had just declared although he had a haughty tone when he asked, "She has the perfect moves for tango? What makes you say that?"

"Well, tango is a _'walking'_ dance. It's five steps taken in eight counts. The basic step goes like this – _slow, slow, quick, quick, slow," _Dick said as he demonstrated the steps and movements while explaining them to Bruce. "Unlike your beloved waltz, tango has no rise-and-fall or swaying movements. Tango movements are quick and sharp. It's known for staccato movements and its well-known graceful head snaps and statue-like poses as the couple dances. The walking actions are done with the grace and fluidity of a cat. That's why Alfie and I insisted on you to learn and master the eight-roll for your torso and arms. It will help you with flexing your limbs like cats normally would as you walk and transition between movements and steps."

Bruce thought deeply and then fell quiet, taking in Dick's explanation…

Dick then added as he gestured over his chest, abs, and hips using his right hand, and ten allowing his right arm to move to the rhythm of the music with grace. "The eight-roll you've learned also teaches you how your torso moves during the dance, with your arms following the fluid movement. Now we'll add the leg movements by learning the steps. Let's work together in mastering the steps first by doing it together side by side. Once I think you've got the rhythm and your entire body's moving in sync from head to toe, we'll partner up. I'll lead, and you follow."

"So I need to be graceful and flexible like a cat, and combine that with sharp, snap-like movements?"

For the first time since the lessons have started, Alfred gave a small smile. Dick nodded in approval, saying, "Yes…those two things you've mentioned while dancing to the rhythm of the music and keeping count. All of this has to happen fluidly."

Alfred, feeling that there was something important that needed to be mentioned at this part of the instruction, now interjected, "So about good manners on the dance floor. There's etiquette that's followed especially when it comes to the tango. You don't come up to the person and ask them to dance. You two simply make eye contact. If you wish to dance with each other, let your eyes meet and then exchange smiles or nods. If the other party doesn't meet your gaze, you move on and find another woman to dance with. This way, both parties feel that there's less intrusion."

Recalling the good old days when he was younger, Alfred added more information by sharing, "Remember, Master Bruce…tango is a dance of endurance. A round or _'tanda'_ is four dances…so count that as four songs. If you ask your partner to dance the first dance, it's polite to complete the entire round. So if you feel that you can't endure, or you're not so keen on dancing with your partner for an entire round, then it's okay to ask your partner to dance on the second or third song. Of course you'll make adjustments depending on the setting, but what I described to you was how a gentleman and a lady would conduct themselves in tango before they partner up."

"I don't have a problem with endurance," Bruce declared as he frowned a bit from taking in new information from Alfred and Dick.

"Okay, Bruce…so stand to my left and let's start," said Dick as he looked at Bruce while facing at the panel of mirrors in front of them. "Look at the mirror and follow exactly what I do. Let's start with the footwork first. Don't worry about rhythm for now. Once you have the muscle movement committed to memory, then we'll do the steps according to rhythm – all right?"

Bruce let out a sigh and then nodded. He looked at his reflection on the mirror and shook his head in defeat. He then bucked up and focused on the task at hand.

Being the patient teacher that he normally was, Dick used a calm voice as he explained while taking a step to emphasize his point of instruction, "So the basic step for tango is also called the _eight-count_ basic. As I said before, it goes like this – _slow, slow, quick, quick, slow_. It's five steps. Each slow step gets _two_ counts. Each quick step gets_ one_ count. So three slow and two quick steps equals eight… Since you play the piano, you can tell beats, tempo, and timing. Tell me what can you tell about the music you're hearing right now?"

Bruce replied after a few minutes of listening intently to the piped-in tango music, "This one that's playing right now is in four-fourth time. Tempo's about 30 to 33 measures per minute."

Dick nodded his head, stopping his foot movements in the meantime. "You're right. However, there are times that tango music plays at two-fourth time. So let's practice the man or the lead's footwork right now while standing side-by-side. Let's give each other two arms' length space. Now look at your own reflection in the mirror and pretend that your reflection is your partner. Keep good posture at all times. That means hold your head high. Spine straight and core strong…. Chest out and shoulders back… Let your confidence come out through every movement you make."

With Dick leading and under Alfred's scrutinizing gaze, Bruce and his eldest son did a repetitive cycle of five steps. First was a step forward with the left foot. Second was a step forward with the right foot while passing the left foot. Third was a step forward again with the left foot, this time passing the right foot. Fourth was a step forward and to the right using the right foot. Fifth was the left foot meeting with the right foot, then feet together which marked the end of the cycle and the beginning of the next one.

True to his word, the patient teacher that was Dick focused on Bruce mastering the steps by focusing on consistent accuracy at first. Once that he felt that Bruce was ready, he silently by slowly but surely working with Bruce on applying what was learned while observing rhythm. When the milestone of consistent accuracy and rhythm was achieved, he then added movement and grace. The cycle of steps repeated in a never-ending loop, with father and son finally being in sync.

Dick gestured to Alfred using eye contact only, the latter queuing up tango music timed at two-fourths. When the music was about to end, he told Bruce, "Don't stop – just keep going with the footwork…"

And soon, the music transitioned from one song to another. Dick's footwork did not change. Bruce, still learning, was temporarily thrown off but was able to catch up.

"Good," said Dick as the footwork continued for the two of them. "Don't lose your count. So let's do two more songs, then we'll take a short break. After the break, we'll do the woman's footwork."

Bruce nodded for his reply, focusing hard on not making a mistake. Once the time for their short break had arrived, he began to feel the tension from another grueling round of dancing for the fourth day.

Alfred handed Bruce and Dick bottled water. He patted Bruce on the back, saying, "Keep up the good work, Master Bruce. You're making progress."

"Thanks, Alfred. I'll be back. I need to check with Lucius about a couple of things."

Alfred and Dick nodded and gave Bruce leave…

And for Dick, Alfred smiled and patted Dick on the back, "You're a great instructor, Master Richard. We're making slow but steady progress."

"Are we really?" asked Dick with a kind grin. "I haven't danced like this for quite a while. Never imagined that I'd be teaching Bruce…"

"For what it's worth, Master Richard, the efforts will pay off."

Dick let out a sigh and then took in a deep, cleansing breath. He gazed into Alfred's eyes as he shared, "I hope so, Alfie. Because if you heard Selina yourself over the phone, you'll know how pissed off she really is at Bruce as we speak. And I don't know how Bruce will like this next portion of his training."

Alfred blinked and wondered out loud, "Why is that? He's doing well…"

"Well," Dick said and then let out a heavier sigh. "I'm about to teach Bruce the woman's steps, and then the actual dancing begins. Remember when I said that I lead, he follows."

Alfred thought deeply and his breath hitched when he figured out what Dick was trying to say, _"Oh…"_

"Yes… Oh is right…" Dick frowned a bit and added, "Bruce needs to get rid of every stubborn bone in his body to learn this properly."

"If you need to be harsh with Master Bruce, then do so. You'll be doing your student a disservice by treating him too gently. He won't learn if you do that to him."

"I know…" Dick then pursed his lips, his attention diverting once he noticed that Bruce had returned and that break was now over. He then told Alfred, "Okay, Alfred…wish me luck…"

Bruce casually returned to his original place while Alfred started the music once more, the latter choosing another tango song with a four-fourth beat and setting it to perpetual loop.

Dick then talked to Bruce, facing the mirror to make eye contact with the latter so that he could continue instructing. "So let's do one more round with the man's steps to refresh your memory, and then we'll proceed with the woman's steps."

After father and son did a song's worth of steps in fluid succession, Dick gestured for Bruce to pause as the lesson proceeded to the next step. "So the woman's step mirrors the man's step. When the man steps forward with the left foot, the woman steps backwards with the right foot…. You'll pick up on the difference once you learn both steps. What's important is muscle memory."

Once Dick saw Bruce nod as acknowledgement, he added, "We'll do what we did before. We'll stand side by side. Let's work on your accuracy first. Then we work on you being consistently accurate. Once we get that, we'll throw in rhythm. When you're comfortable with the three, we focus on your movement and grace. Look at the mirror throughout the steps and pretend that your reflection is your partner. So let's begin…"

Alfred observed as Dick led Bruce through a new repetitive cycle of five steps intended for the woman dancer. First was a step back with the right foot. Second was a step back with the left foot passing the right foot. Third was a step back again with the right foot, this time passing the left foot. Fourth was a step back and to the left using the left foot. Fifth was the right foot meeting with the left foot, then feet together which marked the end of the cycle and the beginning of the next one.

This time around, Bruce had easier time learning, replicating, and becoming in sync with Dick's steps…managing to maintain it even when Alfred changed the song or even switched to faster-beat tango music.

Soon, another hour-and-a-half had quickly gone by followed by a 15-minute break.

Once break was over, Dick said to Bruce, "So I lead and you follow. Both dancers start with the embrace and pose. For the man, the left hand is raised and holds the lady's right hand. The man's right hand is placed on the woman's back along with bottom of her ribcage."

With the irritation reflected in his voice, Bruce asked, "And for the woman?"

"The woman's left hand is placed on the man's right shoulder. Her right hand is raised to the man's left, her right arm wrapped around the man and resting on the center of the man's back. Her knees are slightly bent. The man and the woman mirror each other's steps. The man starts with the left foot while the woman follows with the right. The walks usually curve gradually to the left. Do the eight-count, and then the cycle starts again."

Dick's eyes then narrowed, doing his best to ignore Bruce's obvious non-verbal cues of not looking forward to this part of the lesson. "I can't stress enough that the man and woman have to work in sync. They need to be able to 'read' each other's movement. It's up to the man to use his body to let the woman know what they're doing next. The woman needs to pick up on what's next based on how the man's guiding her using his arm, body, and weight. So more skilled dancers use variations such as turns, spins, and other movements… Those will require partners to be in sync with each other so that movements are fluid and graceful and the performance is flawless."

When Bruce was not budging, Dick raised an eyebrow and asked, "And…?"

"And what…?"

Undaunted, Dick said, "Now what's the problem?"

Bruce glared at Dick, his eyes narrowing. "I_ don't_ like this. Not one bit."

"And what are you suggesting?" Dick asked nonchalantly. He could tell from the corner of his eye that Alfred was throwing death glares behind Bruce's back.

"Why do I have to be the woman? Why can't you do that part?"

This time, Dick narrowed his eyes…doing so even more dangerously than Bruce did earlier. "Because you need to know how to be a follower before you can lead. It's the foundation of anything that had to do with being a good lead."

"I refuse to do it. Simple as that… I know exactly what I'm doing. I haven't made any mistakes for the past hour. I don't even like the concept that this whole dance has a rumored history of mimicking the relationship between the pimp and the prostitute."

Letting out a snort, Dick challenged Bruce by saying, "You have a _huge _misogynistic chip on your shoulder thinking that the prostitute is a pushover in this dance. Would you, for once, dump anything that has to do with waltz and crime fighting?"

Bruce admitted through gritted teeth, "I'm so frustrated and disgusted that I want to pummel the pimp."

Dick then quietly laughed at Bruce and shook his head, saying, "Fine, we'll do it your way. You lead, I follow – "

"Master Richard – "

Dick raised his hand to stop Alfred, knowing that the latter was protesting for a move that was catering to Bruce's wants and tantrums…making Alfred brace himself.

However, there was a gleam in Dick's eyes that gave Alfred pause…and since Bruce was too angry for his own good, he lacked the perception to notice what was about to happen…

"Fine, then… You lead, I follow. On one condition..."

"Name it."

"Give me your word that you're not backing away first and that whatever I say goes. This is also the first and last time you challenge the rules and instructions I give you. Do I have your word?"

Bruce let out a disgruntled sigh. "Fine! I give you my word."

Dick calmly explained, "You want a role reversal that badly? Sure... We'll play it your way. You'll be the lead. I'll follow. However, every time that you make a mistake – no matter how little it is – I will slap you across the face. That'll continue until you choose to give up your role. Retaliate even with a little pout and you'll get more where those slaps came from." He then knowingly smiled, adding, "That wouldn't be a problem since you've perfected it already, right _Mr. Pimp?_"

Alfred turned, squinting his eyes and trying to withhold any desire to burst out laughing or reacting over what he just heard. Instead, he gritted his teeth to curb his laughter while thinking, _"Well played, Master Richard… Well, played…."_

Meanwhile, Bruce was speechless….

With a smile feigning innocence, Dick prepared himself and assumed the follower position for the dance. He looked at Bruce and said, "All right, Mr. Pimp – shall we dance?"

"You're devious," Bruce growled, giving Dick a death glare as the two embraced for the dance.

"It's high time you learn what the true relationship is between the pimp and the prostitute. It'll also show you just how pissed off Selina is right now because of your behavior...the same one that's insisting that you do the lead when you haven't even properly learned the tango. You want the school of hard knocks? Alfie and I now give it to you in a silver platter."

The two then took the first steps….

Sure enough, Bruce – incensed over what just happened even though he got exactly what he wanted from Dick – took Dick's hand and the two danced.

Seconds later after the first steps were taken and throughout the duration of the first two songs, the sounds of someone being slapped square across the face echoed throughout the hall yet drowned by the music.

Both lead and follower had eyes glued to each other as the hours whiled away – with the lead giving the follower such a death glare as his face was flushed from the warm throbbing of being repeatedly slapped, and the follower giving the lead a defiant snicker and administering the required penalty with such gusto.

**End of Chapter Three**


	4. Leading the Blind

**BATMAN**

**SHALL WE DANCE?**

**Chapter Four: Leading the Blind**

* * *

_**To the Reader**_

_General timeline for this multi-chapter fic is __after__ the events depicted in the Batman and Nightwing series and __before__ the DC 52 Reboot (except for Batgirl 2011—Volumes 1 to 3). Specific timeline for this fic is immediately after the events of Batgirl 2011, Volume 3. This fic also takes the position that events in Batgirl 1 to 3 and the entire "Mirror Arc" happen before the events of Nightwing 2011 #1._

_This fic is also set BEFORE the events chronicled in the Grayson comic series..._

_This fic takes the position that everything that happened thus far in the DC universe will remain as true and that the reboot series (if applicable) are the characters' continuing adventures._

_**Disclaimer**_

_Bruce Wayne / Batman, Dick Grayson / Nightwing, Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle / Catwoman, and other DC characters appearing in this fic… I do not own these lovable DC / Vertigo characters._

_Adios by Ricky Martin is owned by those who hold the copyright to the song. Such an awesome song!_

_However, I do own this fic. Have fun reading, and let me know what you think through Private Message and/or reviews!_

_Best regards,_

_**PJ Zatken**_

* * *

After a day and a half of being man-slapped, Bruce had enough. He begrudgingly gave in and allowed Dick to be the lead during their dance training…feeling resigned in doing so, yet being so pissed off that he felt his jaw was about to lock up a handful of times.

Alfred watched as the son continued to train the father in quiet amusement, taking in how much progress Bruce had made in learning how to dance although there was still much to learn. He acknowledged Dick's gifted ability to teach and tailor the instruction according to his student could best learn…and Bruce was as hard as they come in terms of being a student in anything that did not have to do with criminals or business.

Another day and a half passed where Dick felt that Bruce was ready for the next step. His student now knew how to both lead and follow – the latter knowing the rudiments yet with him feeling that Bruce was lacking the suave refinement in movements and steps. He knew that in order for Bruce to achieve that, Bruce's confidence and instincts for dancing needed to be free-flowing and natural.

After mulling over and coming up with an idea, Dick waited much earlier at the hall where he and Alfred trained Bruce. He propped a chair in the middle of the room where mirrors faced him in all angles, his mind's eye trying to picture on how to fully execute imparting and having Bruce acquire the rest of what he felt the latter needed to master dancing the tango.

Dick purposefully took Bruce's training an extra mile. He could've just taught his father the rudiments of the Argentine tango and be done with it. He could've also budged just a little and worked on rudiments and technique for just one dance. Instead, he took it upon himself to go beyond his instruction by teaching Bruce not only the Argentine tango but also the foundation of what makes Latin ballroom dances unique, and slowly but surely instilling in Bruce the ability to translate what was being learned now into any other dance styles including Bruce's every-beloved waltz.

At this point in time, Bruce could be considered as an intermediate dancer when it came to the Argentine tango and could easily be considered at the same level in other Latin dances – all thanks to Dick and Alfred's instruction. Dick, with the acrobat and dancer in him naturally flowing through his veins and guiding his instincts, still recognized that Bruce still had much work to do.

To Dick, he was not satisfied yet with Bruce's confidence and command on the dance floor…the bravado which was akin to any Latin dance was not consistently there yet, and if it was on display then those flicker-of-a-moment were not enough to command attention or the affection of the audience and especially the partner during the dance.

"If I ever hear him mention the word waltz _one more time_…" muttered Dick under his breath as he let out a sigh, shaking his head as he thought over what he should do as an instructor for this phase of Bruce's training.

Dick's thoughts then went towards Alfred and the planned gala for the Wayne Foundation, the venue being the largest ballroom at Roycroft Hotel which was one of the venues for the grandest occasions and parties in Gotham City. Between him and Alfred, the latter had been in charge of smoothing things over as much as he could so that the stage would be set for a hopeful reconciliation between Bruce and Selina.

Time passed…

Once Bruce stepped in the hall, with Alfred arriving shortly thereafter, Dick had finally decided to proceed with what he originally planned to do to drive his instruction home and ingrain it in Bruce.

"Ready, Bruce?"

Bruce nodded, eyeing on the black strip of cloth in Dick's hands. He chuckled for a moment, being reminded of his favorite hero from long ago. "What's up with the Zorro mask? What is this – dress rehearsal?"

"Nope…" Dick let out a sigh and then got up. He folded the wooden chair that he was sitting on and handed it to Alfred. "We're going to work together in polishing up your instincts on the dance floor. So until I'm satisfied, you'll be blindfolded. We'll start off with me leading you. When you get the hang of it, I'll hand over the lead to you."

"Why?"

"It's like martial arts. There comes a point in time that the master teaches the student the next level by using the same methods, but covering the eyes. When your eyes are covered, other senses are heightened and adapt to the new change. It hones the instincts. Right now, you're relying too much in looking at the mirrors. Your movements are clunky and inconsistent because you're still counting in your head. You're not giving in to the dance."

As Bruce gave him a suspicious look, Dick further proved his point by adding, "For short, you're not _completely present_ while you're dancing with your partner. And that is one of the biggest insults you could ever give your partner. It's like having sex with someone all while you call out another woman's name during the deed. That'll definitely earn you a slap across the face."

Bruce's forehead creased. "This sounds exactly like what we did before. The only difference is the blindfold. So why don't you teach me this with me leading all the way from start to finish. I'm the man, and I'm supposed to lead anyway."

"Oh, Good Lord… Here we go again," Alfred muttered under his breath, resignation and annoyance both coursing through his veins.

Dick's eyes narrowed. "Well, Bruce… You are right. It's _exactly_ the same as we did before. So if you insist on taking the lead from the beginning, guess that comes along with it? There's more slapping to dish out, anyway. Care for more helpings?"

Father and son's eyes met, with neither one backing down.

"Tell me why we're doing a repeat of this?" was Bruce's growled question.

"Because you need to personally know how it feels on the woman's side of things… You learn her steps and develop those instincts so that you'll be a better lead on the dance floor." Dick, still not backing down, added, "You're right. _You're_ the man. So it is your responsibility to be the perfect gentleman and affectionate lover on that dance floor from the start until the end of the evening. How the hell would you know to show the respect and affection that your partner deserves if you insist on only seeing things _your _way?"

The hall was silent for a long moment, with father and son still engaged in locked gazes.

Bruce still looked angry. "I don't understand all of this. I've learned so much already, so why are we repeating everything again? It's a waste of time!"

And Dick immediately deadpanned, "_Really…?_ Is _this_ what you think all this is about – a _waste _of time?"

With annoyance and haughtiness laced in his tone, Bruce countered, "Then tell me what I should call it. I call it as I see it."

Dick let out a deprecating chuckle and shook his head. "I stand corrected. You _don't_ need the blindfold because you're blind to begin with, and you're too much of an ass to see that."

An air of uneasy silence filled the hall, with Alfred feeling as if his heart had such an anvil crushing it. But Dick Grayson, being the person that he always was, knew how to roll with the punches while not being intimated with Bruce or anyone…but it did not mean that his feelings were impervious from hurt. He could empathize with Dick, and he could see as to how the latter was hurt over Bruce's words.

Seeing Bruce's first ward and eldest adopted son at this time, though, Alfred unveiled a truth from seeing Dick – not because Dick was an open book, but rather he knew the dictates of Dick's heart. From there, he knew what the young man was trying to do all this time for Bruce, and Dick's unconditional gesture truly touched him.

Finally, the silence was broken…

"Alfie and I are teaching you something far more beyond this dance floor, Bruce. You're grown up enough, I hope, for you to see what we've been trying to tell you. I thought that I didn't have to spell it out for you. But here I am… I keep forgetting who I'm dealing with. Maybe that's the same problem that Selina's having. We're expecting too much when we shouldn't be expecting anything at all."

Dick then let out a sigh, saying, "Let's take a 30 minute break for now." He then walked towards Alfred, giving the latter the blindfold.

Bruce and Alfred then watched Dick walk out of the hall as if nothing had happened, with Dick's footsteps echoing loudly throughout the hall.

"It sounds like I screwed up again, didn't I?"

Alfred let out a burdened sigh, with him quietly inviting Bruce for them go towards the stairs and sit together. Once the two were seated, Alfred placed a consoling hand on Bruce's back. "Sometimes, you're still that same young boy you've always been. You keep forgetting that as much as Master Richard's grown up, he still looks up to you as his father. You may be Batman to his Robin…now Nightwing…but you're first his father and friend. That should _always_ be the case – whether it is with Master Richard, Master Jason, Master Tim, or Master Damian. The same goes with Miss Kyle. You may be Batman to her Catwoman, but you should be the Bruce Wayne to her Selina Kyle first and foremost."

Bruce looked at Alfred with a rueful expression veiled on his handsome face. "He was so insistent in having me learn how to dance. I know that you and he are trying to get Selina and me make up, but…"

And then Bruce fell quiet, not knowing what to add.

"Then you're missing a much-greater part of why Master Richard is teaching you the way that he is. Sure, he wants you to learn so that you can sweep Miss Kyle off her feet again. But he didn't have to go out of his way to have you master it. You also didn't notice how passionate he is when it comes to teaching you."

"I do."

"No, Master Bruce…you don't." Alfred then kept his eyes focused on Bruce. "You did ask me the question on why Master Richard knows how to dance so well. He's been teaching you a fundamental since the beginning, and if you remember what it is without my help then you'll have half your answer on what just went wrong out there."

Bruce shook his head and sighed. "I don't know. He taught a lot of things."

"Latin dances are passionate dances. The dancer needs to communicate that passion through the body, movements, and gazes…giving their all. Otherwise, it all fails." This time, it was Alfred's turn to sigh. "Master Richard put himself out there. You can't teach someone to be passionate and to give his all when you're not doing it yourself while you're teaching it. When both student and teacher give their all, you learn a lot from each other."

Alfred could tell from Bruce's expressive eyes that the latter was still searching for an answer. He gave Bruce the most understanding, kindest smile that he could ever give the other. "You two really never had a normal life as father and son, and understandably so. Yet, if you remember how our family started with just the two of us first…with Master Richard joining us years later… He grew up in this house, under our care and your mentorship. You two may be father and son, but you rarely had normal father and son moments."

Alfred deliberately paused for a moment, letting Bruce absorb what he just told the latter before continuing, "Sometimes, Master Richard is still the same young boy that he has always been. Before Master Richard left for this break, I just realized something. He loves this time that you two are having together. To him, this moment in time will be a father-and-son memory for him."

"And I just told him that it's a waste of time…" Bruce closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Not a very smart or sensitive thing to say, young man – do you agree? True love, whatever form it takes, shouldn't be about fulfillment of expectations. But we're all human, and so at times we cannot love as perfectly and as unconditionally as we should. That's why we get hurt. So did I help you in understanding something, even just a little?" asked Alfred with empathy laced in his tone. He then gave Bruce a small, hopeful smile. "It's not too late, though. You could still make things right - starting with Master Richard, and then with Miss Kyle. After that, take a long look about how you've lived your life. You'll realize that you have a family who loves you for who you are...but their unconditional love and acceptance of you doesn't mean that you stop making efforts in becoming a better person."

The two sat there in silence, with Alfred allowing Bruce as much time as the latter needed to think things through.

"Thank you, old man," said Bruce with such reverence and affection, accepting the consoling and reassuring hug that Alfred had given him…the hug stirring up memories of when he was still a lonely and grieving boy. And throughout all that time and up to the present, the man who served as his guardian and father continued to watch out for and guide him in so many ways.

When the familial embrace between the two men ended, Alfred then extended his hand and opened up his palm where the black blindfold now rested. "Now go talk to your son, young man…and set things straight between you two while we still have time."

Bruce then took the blindfold from Alfred's hand, marching out of the hall and willing to search every corner of the manor grounds in search of Dick.

**End of Chapter Four**


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